In places where time has carved its deepest marks, memory does not disappear; it becomes fragile. Fading portraits, wilted flowers behind fogged surfaces, fractured glass and worn materials do not serve here as documents of the past, but as delicate traces — thresholds between presence and absence, between image and dissolution.
Fragile Traces follows this gradual transformation. From the first hints of a human face to the moment when its imprint dissolves into shadow, moisture, or light, the images unfold as stages in a cycle: memory appears, erodes, breaks apart, and finally persists as matter, as color, as a faint outline that resists erasure.
This is not a narrative about loss, but about the quiet endurance of the trace. About the moment when the image, even in its near-disappearance, continues to emit a soft, hesitant glow. About what remains — fragile yet persistent — when everything else has already faded.